Canine Conspiracy
by alabaster-demon
Summary: G1. Thanks to Skywarp and G1-Lockdown, the Decepticons benefit from one of the Autobots' experiments-gone-wrong. HIATUS
1. Prologue

A/N: First fic, so DON'T be gentle. Con-crit if possible, please! (That's 'constructive', not 'Decepticon'. I'm happy to accept reviews from all factions.)

* * *

_Skywarp: Megatron, sir, look! The prologue is up! Ooh, it has me in it…_

**Canine Conspiracy**

**Prologue**

"Probability of event: Low."

Skywarp cleared his vents with a sigh and wondered if he could convince the Constructicons to sabotage Soundwave's annoying vocal programming. "C'mon, Soundwave, I've talked him into stuff like this before. And I really, really, really want one! He knows that if he says no I'll just get one anyway and hide it."

"Probability of event: Low. Deciding factor: Avian Experiment."

"But that was different!" Skywarp protested. "Those dumb Coneheads just let the little flying squishies loose in the base and went chasing after them. I'd keep mine in my quarters."

"Like slag you would," Thundercracker countered as he strolled past them toward the energon dispensers. "I don't want organic waste products smeared on my berth. That white stuff was all over the base after we finally caught that last winged squishy."

Skywarp scowled. "It wouldn't get on your berth. The squishy I'm getting doesn't have wings, and I bet it can't jump that high. And for your information, dumbaft, most squishy waste is _brown_."

Leaning back, Soundwave watched the two Seekers bicker. His memories of the Avian Experiment were mostly negative; his Cassettes, being lower to the ground than most of the 'Cons, had been treated to a much more detailed view of the organic waste. In addition, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had been ordered to join the squishy-catching squad, and suffered minor damage when poorly-aimed laser blasts went astray.

Actually, the base itself ended up in decidedly poor shape after the smoke had cleared and the birds were dumped in the ocean. In addition, the little data that had been collected on the birds' flying techniques – which was the sole flimsy reason why the Avian Experiment had been allowed – was lost when the secondary databank fell victim to a null ray.

The only minor positive consequence of the Experiment, Soundwave mused, was that Megatron finally recognized the lack of weapon accuracy among his troops and ordered mandatory remedial courses in marksmechship.

Thankfully, Skywarp's ridiculous request was likely to be denied. Megatron knew better than to seriously consider any sort of proposal suggested by the slightly hyperactive Seeker, and if Skywarp succeeded in getting Starscream's support – which he would need to pass off his new 'pet' as a _scientific_ investment – the probability of Megatron's approval fell even further.

Pondering the subjectivity of Megatron's command decisions, Soundwave almost missed Skywarp's petulant response to Thundercracker's blatant sarcasm.

"We need to keep up with the Autobots! They may do some pointless things, but if having pet dog-squishies isn't useful and causes as much trouble as you think, then the Autobots would have gotten rid of theirs by now!"

"Inquiry: Clarification. Subject: Autobot possession of canine organic."

Skywarp shot a sly glance in Soundwave's direction. "Rumble told me that Laserbeak almost got sniffed out by the Autobots' latest pet mongrel. It seems your little midgets aren't quite as sneaky as you keep insisting. But the _point_ is," Skywarp continued loftily, "a dog could help guard the base against those other squishies that the Autobots use, and it _has_ to be a dog sparkling because the dumber organics can't be programmed when they get too old. The dog squishy that the Autobots have is larger than most adults of its kind, but it acts like it's sparkling-age, so we don't even have to look for a new puppy – we can just steal theirs. And having an organic around that Motormaster can actually catch but isn't allowed to squish would be _hilarious_."

Thinking back, Soundwave recalled the latest mission report. Laserbeak had not indicated the presence of a new organic in the Ark during the post-op briefing, but that may have been simple prudence due to Megatron's recently-acquired impatience with any mention of organic trivialities. It was true that the Autobots' humans had been disturbingly efficient at penetrating base security, no doubt due to their smaller size. Perhaps, for once, one of Skywarp's suggestions had some merit; and if the Ark's security could be compromised at the same time, then all the better.

* * *

The potential victim of Skywarp's scheme was, at that exact moment, wagging his tail and cheerfully slobbering on Mirage's shoulder. Mirage desperately tried to ignore this as he shifted the oversized puppy in his arms and listened in on the hushed conversation going on across the medbay.

"So, for once, it _wasn't_ Wheeljack's fault?" asked a skeptical Ratchet.

"Indeed, I fear that it was in fact my interference which resulted in this catastrophic and perplexing scenario," replied Perceptor with embarrassment. "I truly believed that my improvements would result in the increased accuracy of the subject's visual-simulating ability. I am not at all adverse to the acceptance of full responsibility for this debacle."

Ratchet eyed the smoking, wrecked device that lay on the examination table. As Skyfire and Wheeljack prodded it inquisitively, he ignored their speculative murmurs and strode over to Mirage.

"How is he?"

Mirage held the happy canine out at arms' length and gave him a brief once-over. "Wet," he replied succinctly. "I honestly don't understand why these creatures seem to be so popular among humans. If all members of this species produce this much saliva, I'm amazed that poor Spike and Carly haven't drowned yet."

"The young dog they adopted is only as tall as _their_ knees, not _ours_. Now, I've got an appointment with a human who can tell me more about these animals. While I go talk to her and get the stuff our newest organic friend will need, _you_ have the happy task of taking care of him until I'm finished."

In dawning horror, Mirage stared after the medic as he strode calmly off. Normally, he wouldn't object to spending more time with his friend. But he had been in his company for just a few minutes since his… accident… and he was already coated in an epic amount of drool. Now, Mirage was nowhere near as vain as, say, Tracks. In these circumstances, however, the spy felt he was entitled to at least a pout and a sigh before resigning himself to caring for his unlucky friend. At _least_.

Mirage pouted. Mirage sighed.

"Alright, Hound, we're going to visit the washracks. They're big. You can run around in them a bit. You'll like them, I promise. Can you even understand me in this form?"

"Woof!"

Sigh.


	2. Chapter 1

_Megatron: "The first chapter, and I'm *already* being pestered? Thundercracker, tell your idiot trine-mates to stop making my life harder."_

**Canine Conspiracy**

**Chapter One**

Megatron eyed the grinning Seeker with a faint feeling of apprehension. He was used to having Starscream pester him constantly for new scientific supplies and equipment. Skywarp, on the other hand, usually went straight to Scavenger or Swindle, unashamedly begging and whining for whatever bizarre prank materials he required that week. To see the black-and-purple jet shifting from foot to foot in front of him and trying to keep his smirk in check was… disconcerting, to say the least.

"Out with it, Skywarp. What do you want?" Megatron growled. Honestly, he sometimes thought that his actual duties were more comparable to those of a sparkling-sitter or creatorfemme than those of a Decepticon warlord.

Do this.

Don't do that.

Yes, you _have to_, Starscream.

Don't touch those, we're saving them for later.

Stop jumping on your recharge berths, you fools.

Because I _said so_, Starscream.

Don't make me come in there!

Scavenger, don't put that in your mouth, you don't know where it's been.

Turn that racket down, Soundwave – are you trying to collapse the base around our audial receptors?

Motormaster, I brought you into this universe, and I can take you right back out!

GO TO YOUR ROOM, STARSCREAM!

While you live under _my_ roof, Thundercracker, you'll follow _my_ rules!

What part of NO don't you understand, Skywarp?

"Um… sir? I didn't even ask for what I wanted yet…"

Oh, slag. Hopefully the idiot would be so disappointed when his request was refused, that he'd forget that his leader was muttering to himself like a lunatic.

"_Well_?"

Recognizing the tone of impending grumpiness in Megatron's voice, Skywarp hurried to outline his idea. "Well, sir, you know how we've been having some slight security problems lately?"

*******************************

"Move over, slagger! I can't hear!"

Thundercracker kept his audial receptor pressed to the edge of the door, ignoring Starscream's insistent poking. Despite himself, he'd gotten dragged into yet another of Skywarp's stupid schemes. Although outward appearances might suggest otherwise, more often than not the Seeker trine stuck together. Granted, this was mostly because Megatron usually punished them as a group when something went wrong that couldn't be blamed on Starscream alone. Thundercracker had gotten accustomed to being assigned tedious duties because of a prank which he only heard about later.

That didn't mean he liked it, though. If _this_ latest crazy idea from Skywarp went wrong, he and his trine would probably end up scrubbing the undersides of the rec room tables for the next few months… which was not a fun job when Skywarp's _last_ crazy idea had involved energon additives, collaboration with Mixmaster, and a Swindle-style product promotion plan. It had ended in the creation and base-wide use of a tasty but obnoxious substance, which Skywarp gleefully proclaimed 'Cybertronian chewing gum'. Thankfully, Megatron had stopped the experiments before Mixmaster finalized the formula for some sort of 'bubbly' variation.

Thundercracker grunted as Starscream shoved him aside, quickly catching himself before he made a conspicuous clatter. The consequences of Megatron catching them eavesdropping were much more terrible than potential gum-scraping duty. Glancing at the floor, Thundercracker noticed two pairs of amused-looking feet and glared balefully at them for a second before looking up into two amused-looking faces.

Blitzwing and Astrotrain smirked down at him. "So, what's the verdict, then?" Astrotrain asked. "Is Skywarp gonna get his squishy? Swindle says the odds are three to one against."

"Swindle also says that trying to gain an unfair advantage over other gamblers is against the house rules for this betting pool," Swindle answered as he dropped down from the ceiling. The two Seekers and the triplechangers gaped at him. Blitzwing was the first to recover.

"So I guess crawling around in the ceiling like a filthy turbo-rat, listening in on those two, doesn't count as an 'unfair advantage'? And slaggit, for the LAST time, STOP TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF IN THIRD PERSON! Primus, you sound like those dumb Dinobots."

Swindle glowered. "Blitzwing knows that it's not Swindle's fault. Hook can't fix vocal-processor damage to Swindle until Lockdown gets back with tech-stuff. Slagging gunner that shot Swindle in the throat will _pay_ for this..."

"Oh, stop whining, you little glitch," Astrotrain grumbled. "You were careless in that last battle – you got off easy. Anyway, what's all that nonsense about 'unfair'? We're Decepticons! We _thrive_ on 'unfair'!"

With an arrogant sneer, Swindle scurried away from the door to the throne room and replied flippantly over his shoulder. "Swindle started the betting, so Swindle makes the rules. If you don't treat Swindle with more respect, Swindle might add rules to exclude stupid triple-changers from future profits…"

Starscream blinked his optics indifferently and went back to listening at the door as Blitzwing, predictably, roared in anger and charged after Swindle. Astrotrain watched the two sprinting down the hallway, then grabbed the ceiling tile which Swindle had left on the floor. Shoving it unevenly back into place, he cast a bored look at the two Seekers before wandering off in a different direction.

"So?" Thundercracker asked gruffly. The muffled sound of Skywarp's voice had ceased, replaced by silence. Either the black Seeker was cowering in front of Megatron's 'how stupid do you think I am? (don't answer that)' look, or – a far more frightening thought – Megatron was actually thinking over Skywarp's suggestion and weighing the possible benefits.

"I don't believe it," Starscream replied, rearing back from the door in shock. Turning to look at Thundercracker, he was about to continue when the door slid open. Wearing an annoyed expression, Megatron strode imperiously into the hallway… straight into the Air Commander, sending them both tumbling down.

With a weary sigh, Thundercracker watched as Megatron bellowed with fury on the floor and Starscream alternately screeched and groveled. When his leader started struggling to rise, shouting even louder and already charging his fusion cannon, the blue seeker began to slowly back away. He was about to discreetly take his leave when Skywarp came rocketing out behind Megatron and latched onto him, effectively halting any attempt at escape.

"Thunder! THUNDER! Guess what guess what! He said YES! We're gonna have a new little bundle of joy in the family!"

"Skywarp, what the…"

"STARSCREEEEEAAAAAM!"

*******************************

Hound raced around the rec room with his tongue lolling out, barking happily. Mirage watched him glumly from the corner, and almost set his energon cube on top of the humans before he heard their indignant yelps.

"Spike, Carly. What are you doing on that table?" he inquired. Really, did the Ark's general air of madness have to extend to them too?

"Avoiding getting run over, is what we're doing." Carly retorted. "You know, visiting the Ark is quite the reality check these days. We left our little un-potty-trainable monster with a friend so we could take a break from puppy duty, not so we could almost stumble into a big yellow pond just outside the front door." She slumped down crossly next to Mirage's cube, folding her legs and sulking in the energon's pink glow.

Mirage and Spike chatted idly for a few minutes; Spike informed him that they'd finally gotten fed up with their kitten's habit of leaving dead mice around the apartment. In a stroke of tormenting-the-in-laws genius, Spike brought the young cat along to Carly's family reunion, where Carly's mother immediately adored the creature and ended up taking it home. As Mirage silently thanked Primus that Hound had yet to exercise any hunting instincts, Spike shifted nervously from foot to foot and finally brought up the question that was on his mind.

"So how exactly did Hound get like this, anyway?" Spike asked, looking unsure as to whether he really wanted to know. "I mean, this is the sort of stuff that usually happens to Wheeljack. It's not a Decepticon plot, is it?"

Mirage snorted at the thought of Megatron using a device that converted Transformers into drooling organics. As much as the Great Slagmaker obviously enjoyed causing his enemies discomfort, he probably still possessed enough 'species pride' to dislike seeing fellow Cybertronians defeated in such a degrading manner. No, the only amusement Megatron would get out of such a device would be testing it on his treacherous Air Commander… and eventually reversing the effects, of course, unless he wanted his nickname to change to the Great Puppymaker.

Seeing Perceptor approach the energon dispenser next to his chair, Mirage mischievously replied, "No, Spike, this little incident is one hundred percent Autobot-caused. If you're curious as to the exact events, perhaps one of our scientists could explain it to you." As he hurried away, Mirage was gratified to hear Perceptor gleefully discoursing to his captive audience. Ever since he'd found out that Spike and Carly (for some unfathomable reason) were not especially fond of Perceptor, it had been a source of private amusement for Mirage to trap the three together. The oblivious scientist seemed to be completely unaware of the humans' dislike, and honestly Mirage couldn't understand why they would detest him so much either. Something to do with being a 'cat person', as opposed to a 'dog person' – whatever that meant.

Mirage walked quickly over to where Hound was now being enthusiastically scratched behind his audial sensors by Bluestreak. "Hello, Blue," he said cordially, watching with amusement as Hound's tail thumped rhythmically on the floor, "I'd been meaning to congratulate you on that shot you got in at Swindle the other day." When the young gunner beamed and opened his mouth, Mirage quickly realized his mistake. Scrambling for an excuse to depart before Bluestreak could unleash one of his famous verbal avalanches, Mirage added hurriedly, "Now come on, Hound, it's time to go feed you more of that repulsive slop Ratchet cooked up." Mirage turned and headed for the door, almost reaching it before he realized that his friend wasn't following.

"Hound? According to Ratchet's calculations, you should need another energy supplement by now. I don't blame you for not wanting to… Hound? Are you listening?" Hound's only response was a wide doggy grin and a happy tilt of his head.

Bluestreak glanced up apologetically. "I'm not sure if he really understands us, Mirage. Actually, I'm pretty sure he doesn't because I've been talking to him for a while now and he hasn't said anything back at all. I mean, I know he can't really speak like this, but when I asked him questions he didn't bark or make any other sounds either. But anyway, if Hound was really in control of his body right now, he wouldn't let me scratch him behind the aud's like this, would he?"

Mirage thought wryly of Hound's laid-back personality and contemplated the same question for a moment. "Maybe not, Bluestreak, but his organic body does need fuel at short, regular intervals. Why don't you go rescue Spike and Carly from Perceptor's lecture? They're looking rather bored over there, and they don't have a way to get down from that table."

With a fond smile, Mirage watched Bluestreak bounce happily toward his next rescue mission. The young gunner certainly seemed to have found a kindred spirit in his temporarily-organic friend. Tugging gently at Hound's collar, Mirage strolled out of the rec room; behind him, the Ark's two most infamous talkers settled into a conversation while Spike and Carly breathed a silent sigh of relief.


End file.
